


An Anthill Worth Dying On

by blue_pointer



Series: A Glorious Retelling [53]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: A Traveler's Gambit, Alliances, Bargaining, Canon Timeline, Deal with a Devil, Don't copy to another site, Draconic - Freeform, Episode: c01e067 The Chase to Glintshore, Episode: c01e068 Cloak and Dagger, Episode: c01e069 Passed Through Fire, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Marquesian, Metallic Dragon!Gilmore, POV Shaun Gilmore, Thordak - Freeform, Threats of Violence, Visions in dreams, Whitestone (Critical Role), Whitestone Barrier, spell gone wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:14:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29144271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_pointer/pseuds/blue_pointer
Summary: When the barrier spell almost kills Gilmore, he’s saved by the last person anyone would expect to help.
Relationships: Shaun Gilmore & Pike Trickfoot, Shaun Gilmore & Raishan, Shaun Gilmore & Sherri, Shaun Gilmore/Jarett Howarth
Series: A Glorious Retelling [53]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1975831
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	An Anthill Worth Dying On

The day after he’d shared his first intimate encounter with Jarett, Gilmore finally heard from his Vax’ildan. He was attempting to do some weaving on the hand held loom Jarett had brought in to teach him, when Gilmore felt Vax’ildan invoke his name. Vox Machina must have been in Ank’Harel for at least a full day now. Gilmore had hoped to hear from Vax sooner, but perhaps they’d just been distracted by all of the new sights and sounds of the Jeweled City. 

The new parchment seemed to be working as well as the old one. It was nice to hear from Vax and confirm that they were all safe. Grog proved characteristically amusing as well. Gilmore wanted to talk longer, but for some reason, scrying was giving him a monstrous headache today, and he was forced to say goodbye before he was ready. 

The real pain hit him before nightfall. Gilmore had been certain the effect of maintaining the shield without sleep for a week would creep up on him slowly. To his dismay, it came crashing down all at once. Gilmore clutched his head, momentarily blinded with pain. “What’s wrong?” Danika asked. But Gilmore couldn’t reply; the pain was far too intense for that. Even the gentle firelight was like two daggers in his eyes. 

Someone got him to a dark room, and Gilmore could vaguely sense people coming and going. Sherri dabbed his forehead with a cool cloth--he could tell it was Sherri from her scent. But nothing lessened the pain. Some time later, it might have been minutes or hours, Gilmore was able to open his eyes without the pain in his head being excruciating. There were three clerics in his room, working in unison. That seemed like a lot, but Gilmore was grateful for the respite from the pain, even if it was temporary. He saw Lockheed had curled up with him on the pillow, snuggled against his shoulder.

Because they’d darkened his bedroom, Gilmore had no idea what time it was. Eventually, Jarett appeared, looking frightened. He took Gilmore in his arms and held him, kissing his face over and over. Recognizing that two men kissing in a bedroom might make the three clerics uncomfortable, Gilmore asked Jarett to help him get downstairs to the library. Jarett carried him there and cradled Gilmore in his lap for the rest of the night. 

The next cleric to take a shift was Pike, and she brought Zahra along for company. Gilmore was pleased to see both of them, he only regretted not being a better host. Fortunately, Sherri kept running in and out, insisting Gilmore eat something with his coffee, and making sure they were all well-stocked with tea. Jarett and Pike talked armor and weapons for hours while Zahra told Gilmore all about her research into the mysterious sphere below the castle. It was mostly a one-way conversation, because Gilmore couldn’t manage much. 

Before they left, Pike and Gilmore reset the barrier together. Did that mean it was morning? Or had he forgotten to reset it on time? Was that why this was happening to him? Already weak, Gilmore fell into a meditative trance right afterwards in order to maintain the spell. 

“I’m worried,” he heard Pike say. “We can’t keep this up; there aren’t enough clerics, and it’s getting worse.” 

“What can be done?” Jarett asked.

“I’m going to send a message to the Arcanist.” That was Sherri’s voice. “This is stupid. No research is worth doing this to Master Gilmore.” 

“I think you’re right,” Pike agreed. 

Keeper Yennen and his young apprentice, Sebastien, came to take care of Gilmore after Pike left. “General,” Yennen said, surprised to find Jarett playing overprotective nursemaid to Gilmore. “The council was looking for you.”

“The council would be dead without this man,” Jarett said, passionately. “Right now he is far more important than any meeting.” 

“Yes, er...alright,” the Keeper said, backing down. 

“I will also not be supervising training exercises or giving orders to the guard for the time being,” Jarett continued. “If the council wishes to speak with me, I will be right here.” 

Gilmore wanted to tell Jarett he shouldn’t forgo his duties just to take care of him. But speech was beyond him right now. It was taking all of Gilmore’s energy just to stay awake and maintain the barrier. 

He didn’t hear or see much after that. The pain was bearable, so Gilmore knew healers were there, but he couldn’t tell who they were or how many. At some point, he could have sworn he heard Vax’ildan calling him, but Gilmore just didn’t have the strength to scry and see. 

Because of the pain, time had no meaning. At some point, Jarett left, settling Gilmore against the cushions by himself. Without him, the pain intensified. Eventually, an unfamiliar voice said, “I think I might know a way.” Gilmore felt like he should recognize who it was. “Give us some privacy, and I’ll see what I can do.” 

_Uncle._ He could feel Raishan’s voice inside his head. _Your life force is unraveling faster than these ants can weave it back together. Is this barrier of yours truly worth dying for?_

 _“I can do it.”_ Gilmore’s voice was no more than a whisper. And with any luck, Allura would be back soon.

 _You can’t, though,_ she told him. _Not for much longer._

 _“What do you propose?”_ Gilmore knew an introduction to a sales pitch when he heard one. 

_I only see two options: drop the spell, or let me help you._

_“Never.”_

She paused. _It’s your funeral. But do you think this anthill would be able to survive without you?_

 _“What is it you want?”_ Nothing came free, especially not with beings like Raishan.

 _Actually, I need you. You’re the closest thing Thordak has to family--on this continent._ _You’ll remind him of his past, and that will enrage him. Thordak’s rage is a weakness I can exploit._

_“So you intend to sacrifice me in the coming battle.”_

_If necessary, yes. But your presence alone will make him weak. Whether you live or die on that battlefield is up to you._

_“I don’t believe you.”_

_Don’t you want to see your grandchildren?_

Damn it. Of course he did. _“No. I can’t endanger the people of Whitestone by giving in.”_

_Oh, sure you can. Besides, I’m not here to crush your beloved anthill. You’re more use to me alive._

If that was really true, it meant Gilmore had leverage. _“Before I agree, I want you to do something for me.”_

_Ahah. There it is. It seems we are family, after all. What is this thing you want?_

_“Come clean with Vox Machina. Reveal yourself. You won’t get their help without being honest.”_ Gilmore knew his people. She could fool them for a time, if she wanted to play Assum around Whitestone. But once she began strategizing, asking them for favors, Vox Machina would want to know why. And they weren’t stupid--well, not all of them. They would figure it out eventually.

_You’re mad. Make myself vulnerable to them in their own territory? Never. Reveal my true nature? That’s rich, coming from you._

_“If they knew what I was, they would fear me.”_

She sneered. _If they knew what you were, they would use you, slaughter you, loot your body for trophies and discard your butchered carcass. Come, uncle. You know that as well as I do._

Gilmore was not going to admit he did fear that, in his darker moments. But he liked to think they cared for him too much by now to do such a thing. _“Surely Raishan the Deceiver is not afraid of a handful of ants?”_

_Honesty is not in my nature._

Vox Machina did not trust easily. Even if they did not guess who Assum was, they would know she was not the real Assum if she went forward with her plan in disguise. _“You’ll never maintain their trust or loyalty by lying to them.”_

_Why not? You have._

That hurt. _“I have been my authentic self in all but physical form. You are pretending to be someone you’re not.”_ It must have been too long since the healers had been shut out of the room, because the pain came back like his brain was covered in cuts and being dipped in lemon juice. Gilmore grunted, clenching his jaw.

_Fine. But if this goes sideways, I guarantee you, I will take you down with me._

_“Agreed. Now give me your word.”_ She could stamp her feet and throw a tantrum, but Gilmore knew Raishan would do it if she gave her word.

Raishan hissed, clearly hating to be pinned down. _You have my word, I will reveal myself to the six when they return. And if they then choose to attack me, I will put your head on a pike and make a ball gown out of your gold scales._

 _“Agreed.”_ Gilmore’s life was now in Pike’s and Percival’s hands. He knew he couldn’t count on Grog or Vax to keep their tempers in check. The other three were wild cards. But just now the pain was too intense for him to keep bargaining. _“Help me.”_

_Give me your hands._

As they sat alone in the library while Raishan fixed the barrier spell, Gilmore could see her bright green magic tapping here and pushing there, filling in cracks in one place and boring holes to release pressure in another. The entire spell shifted very slowly toward the nexus under the sun tree, resettling over the ley lines. 

Finally, Gilmore opened his eyes and saw “Assum” sitting across from him. The sky was dark beyond the windows, with just the hint of sun in the distance. But was it sunset or sunrise? 

Suddenly, there came a frantic knocking on the door. “Gilmore? Gilmore? Are you alright?” Before he could even speak, the doors splintered inward, and Jarett stepped through, his crossbow aimed at Assum. 

“Stop!” Gilmore called out. “I’m fine. Everything is fine.” 

Pike was right behind him, watching Assum suspiciously. “Sherri said the two of you were locked in here for hours.” 

“Yes, it’s true,” Gilmore said. “Assum and I had some private matters to catch up on. But it’s fine. Truly.” 

Jarett was looking at him as if to ask, ‘Is it really fine, though?’ 

“It’s fine,” Gilmore repeated. 

“I think I’ve overstayed my welcome,” Raishan said, rising from her chair as Jarett rushed forward to embrace Gilmore. She fixed him with her eye. “You should get some sleep, Gilmore.” 

“Is that really possible?” he asked, ignoring Jarett for the moment. 

Raishan nodded. “It should be now.” Gilmore waited for her to leave before gathering Pike and Jarett close. 

“What were you doing?” Pike asked, curious. 

“Assum was...helping me with the barrier spell.” 

“So he is a wizard?” Jarett asked. 

“A practitioner of the arcane, yes,” Gilmore said. Wizard didn’t accurately describe anything that Raishan was. 

“Isn’t that bad?” Pike asked. 

“The help? I don’t think so. The fact ‘Assum’ is that powerful a caster? Likely yes. Excuse me for a moment while I review…” When Gilmore looked with his mage-senses, the barrier was completely intact, and fully stable for the first time since it had been cast. As far as he could tell, Raishan hadn’t made any changes for the worse. She had done what she’d promised and more.

Gilmore opened his eyes again. “I think...I think I’d like to sleep now.” 

“Is that safe?” Pike asked. 

“I believe so.” Gilmore nodded. “Just in case...will you stay and wake me up if there’s trouble?” 

“Of course,” Pike said. 

“Then allow me to accompany you,” Jarett said, sweeping Gilmore up in his arms. Gilmore didn’t have the energy to protest. As they left the room, Jarett announced to Sherri that Gilmore would be taking a nap upstairs. Pike stayed behind. If Sherri objected, Gilmore didn’t hear it. 

Jarett tucked Gilmore into his own bed, making him comfortable on the pillows. _“And what will you be doing, J’arett?”_ Gilmore asked in Marquesian. 

_“I’ll be right here,”_ Jarett said. _“Making sure that you are not disturbed.”_ When Gilmore reached his arms out to him, Jarett leaned down and kissed him good night. He was asleep in moments. 

Gilmore dreamed that Percival was shot dead in a desperate battle that took place on a sea of glass with a demon hovering over a smoldering battlefield. He dreamed that Vox Machina had a children’s slumber party with pillow forts and sleeping bags and a sad corpse laid out on the kitchen table.


End file.
